And Heaven and Earth m/m relationship, explicit sex, rated R WARNING: IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY THE NOTION OF TWO MEN IN A LOVING RELATIONSHIP THAT INCLUDES SEXUAL INTIMACY, DO NOT READ THIS. All characters in this story are the properties of Alliance. This story is intended only for the private entertainment of fans, and may not be reproduced in any form except for this purpose. No profit is made or sought in the writing of this story, nor is it permitted to use this story for any profit-making purposes. A heartfelt "Thank you kindly" to everybody who have made their stories available on the "net." They have been a source of great inspiration, and I've enjoyed reading them very, very much. A Word of Explanation: This story is set directly after the first season episode "Heaven and Earth." Part of the inspiration for this story came from a story posted in the Archive called "Conversation," where Francesca's words to Ray at the end of the episode are interpreted as an attempt to make Ray realize his love for Fraser. The fact is, no matter how many times I watch "Heaven and Earth," I can't figure out where Francesca's outburst came from, or what the writers were trying to achieve with it, and the interpretation provided in "Conversation" does make sense, although I did not follow it exactly in this story. In many ways, "Heaven and Earth" is one of the most emotionally charged episodes of Due South I have seen. In addition to the interactions among Fraser, Ray and Francesca, which create a great deal of emotional intensity, Fraser and Ray are totally in synch with each other throughout this episode, communicating so much non-verbally, through the barest of gestures and facial expressions, always moving together, sitting so close to each other, constantly touching each other, and to top it off, Ray buys into Fraser's assessment of Garret's ability to "see" things with the barest of objections. Add this all up and I couldn't resist imagining how their "togetherness" might just spill over into a sexual level. Now most of the fan fiction that bring Ray and Fraser together romantically place their "epiphany" after "Victoria's Secret" and "Juliet is Bleeding," for obvious reasons. I'll be the first to admit that this little story is not compatible with the two episodes above as they stand, not to mention the whole Fraser-Thatcher relationship in the second season. Well, too bad. After all, all this is fiction, and I'm just indulging myself in a little fantasy.     And Heaven and Earth Revolve by Irene Pinsent Francesca: "You know what your problem is, Ray?" Ray: "No, Frannie, why don't you tell me?" Francesca: "Yeah, I'll tell you. Your problem is that you are so afraid to dream. You are so afraid to reach out for something that you really want. You know what happens to people like you? They get old. They get alone. and they die. And they never know. Well, that's not me." (Heaven and Earth) I. With one final sigh, Ray heaved himself away from the table and out of the interrogation room. Rounding the corner, he stopped short at the sight of the familiar figure in the red serge uniform, standing stiffly next to the water fountain. Fraser had turned to face the sound of the oncoming footsteps, and their eyes locked in a gaze that at once conveyed everything and nothing of what each felt. "Come on," said Ray, breaking the moment with one swift stride that brought him alongside his friend, "Let's get you home." He punctuated his words with a firm tap on the Mountie's shoulder, and Fraser fell into step alongside Ray. As one, the two walked down the corridor and out the building. The cool night air cleared away the tension of the past few days, leaving Ray overwhelmed by the wave of fatigue that welled up in its place. Inserting the keys into the door of his Riv, he found himself sagging against the door. Firm hands reached out to support his shoulders. "Perhaps I should drive," said Fraser. Ray allowed himself to be guided to the passenger's side and crumpled into the seat, barely noticing Fraser reaching around him to secure the seat belt. Rarely did he allow anybody else to drive his beloved Riv, but right now he was content to allow Fraser to take over. As Fraser settled himself into the driver's seat, Ray muttered, "Just drive over to your place, Fraser. I'll just crash in." Fraser gave the slightest nod of acknowledgement as he turned the ignition. For the next few minutes, Ray allowed himself to relax and enjoy the ride. Fraser was a capable driver, handling the car smoothly and meticulously like he did everything else. For a thousandth time, Ray wondered why Fraser did not get himself a car -- or at least use the consulate car for his errands. Truth be told, there was no need for Ray to drive Fraser around as much as he did. For most things, Fraser could walk, or take public transportation. Yes, Ray admitted to himself, the fact of the matter was that the two of them colluded with each other in pretending that there was a need for Ray to be driving Fraser around, when in fact it was just an excuse to be spending as much time as possible in each other's company. And even the cases they worked together, though they were what brought them together in the first place, were now secondary to the bond that had developed between them. A bond that they had never quite openly acknowledged, even to each other. A bond that had no name. Yet. Except... "It's just not my sister, is it." It was not a question, but a statement. "You just aren't attracted to women, are you." Fraser allowed himself the barest flicker of a glance toward Ray before returning his gaze back to the road. "That's not exactly true," he replied evenly. "I do find women attractive." "But you don't find them exciting sexually, do you." Fraser turned a corner just a little too deliberately as he reflected on this pronouncement. As he opened his mouth to respond, his tongue flickered slightly against his lips, and Ray wondered whether Fraser was ever aware of doing it, or how sensual it looked. "There was a woman once, that I found myself thinking about... being physically intimate with." "So, did you?" "Well, we were trapped in a cave in the middle of a blizzard, so..." "Then the answer is no." Fraser gave a nod of acknowledgement. "So what about with men?" Another flick of the tongue across lightly parted lips. "Do you really want to know, Ray?" "Yeah, I want to know." Fraser gently braked the car to a stop at a red light, then stared ahead, absentmindedly drumming the wheel with his fingers. Some part of his mind knew why Ray was asking these questions. Another part firmly refused to even consider the possibility. "I've had a few... experiences." He finally admitted. "So?" "So?" "Did you like it?" The light turned, and Fraser slid the car forward. Ray wondered whether Fraser was going to pretend to be busy with the car and not answer. But the car had barely moved half a block before Fraser spoke. "I did not dislike it, but really, well, I find that being physically intimate with a person without having an emotional, or maybe I should say, spiritual, connection with that person is..." "Right, so you don't believe in casual sex." Ray interjected. "That would be an accurate summation of my sentiments, yes." Fraser acknowledged. "Uh-hum." said Ray. "And if you were to have a deep spiritual or emotional or whatever relationship with somebody, would you rather it be with a man or a woman?" Fraser allowed himself a quick glance at his friend, but Ray's quiet, steady gaze revealed nothing except a firm determination to get a straight answer. When Ray had that kind of look, he would not let up until he was satisfied. Fraser permitted himself a small sigh while adjusting his hands on the steering wheel. Right now he wasn't really sure whether he was glad or annoyed at having to keep the better half of his attention on driving. "I'm not sure if I care, Ray. I mean, in our society, it is more or less expected that men should go out with women and vice versa. Unless, of course, a person has determined himself, or herself, to be homosexual in orientation. Among the Inuits, on the other hand..." "Fra---ser." Ray interrupted, right about when Fraser expected. "I don't care what 'society' thinks, or what the damned Inuits think, okay? I asked you how you felt." Fraser shook his head, as if that would help clear his thoughts. "I can't say I've given it much thought, Ray. I guess it just is not a very high priority with me." "What, you don't think that finding somebody to spend the rest of your life with is important?" "Many people spend their life without getting married, Ray. For instance in many religions, the clerics are required to be celibate..." "You're not a monk, Benny. That what you want? To be a monk? To be alone?" *you get old, you get alone, you die* "No, but if I were to end up alone, I'm willing to accept that." *you are afraid to dream, you are afraid to reach out* "Damn it, Benny, don't you ever dream?" Fraser pulled the Riv into an open space in front of his building and turned off the engine. He leaned onto the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. "I have a dream or two." He admitted. "Any of them involve me?" Ray was surprised he managed to keep the tone of his voice so light and casual. Fraser wondered how he managed to hold himself so still. Or how he managed to respond in the same light and casual tone, "As a matter of fact, yes." Slowly, they turned to meet each other's gaze. Their lips tugged into slight smiles, widening into beaming grins, then they both burst into giggles. Ray unbuckled his belt, and still giggling, slid closer to Fraser and gathered him into his arms. Fraser let his head fall against Ray's shoulders, and stayed there until his giggles began to subside, only to be replaced by something close to sobs. Ray unfastened the buckles on Fraser's seatbelt, gently easing it off his shoulders so he could hold him closer. For a while, he just cradled Fraser, rocking him gently back and forth, listening to his stifled sobs. "Damn it, Benny," he said softly, "If you want to cry, just cry." Fraser stiffened in his arms. He pulled away slightly to look into Ray's eyes. Ray reached out a hand to gently touch his cheek. "You try too hard to hold in your emotions, Benny," he said, "Just this once act how you feel, will you?" Fraser stared at Ray for a long moment before he buried his face in his hands and started crying uncontrollably. Ray leaned back into the seat of the Riv and pulled Fraser down, cradling his head in his shoulders, and closed weary eyes as he prepared to wait out the emotional storm. Somehow this reaction from Fraser did not surprise him at all. How long had he been holding it in, Ray wondered. Knowing him, he probably hadn't cried when his father was killed. He hadn't cried when they had captured Gerrard, during his trial, or at his sentencing. He had accepted his exile to Chicago stoically, without a word of complaint. He hadn't cried when Diefenbaker had almost been destroyed. Damn it, thought Ray, I should have reached out to him back then, instead of backing away to give him space. No, but he had stayed away, kept the distance, because he was afraid... Afraid of what, he wondered. Of rejection, maybe. Of not being worthy of Benny. Of commitment and responsibility. Because Benny was not a casual lover to be cast away once the initial infatuation faded. Ray tightened his arms around Fraser, feeling the weight of the body leaning against his. It felt warm and comfortable to be holding this weight, to listen to the sobs gradually winding down into sniffles against his shoulder, to feel Fraser's hair brushing against his cheek... The weight of his head giving suddenly into gravity startled Ray into jerking it back up, which in turn dislodged Fraser from Ray's arms. "Aw, jeez!" Ray grumbled, "I'm falling asleep on my feet here!" "You are not standing, Ray," Fraser pointed out, logical as always. "Aw, Benny, it's an expression, all right?" Ray playfully pretended to punch Fraser's head. "Can we get out of this car and get in your apartment before I conk out completely and you have to carry me up on your shoulder?" "Certainly, Ray," Fraser said, rubbing the tears out of his eyes. They made their way up the stairs slowly, Ray sluggish from exhaustion and Fraser still sniffling occasionally. Ray held on to Fraser's arm, partly to help drag himself up the stairs and partly to offer comfort. They finally made it to Fraser's room, and Fraser walked Ray to the bed, helped him shrug out of his coat, then left Ray to collapse onto the bed while he walked over to the closet to hang the coat, remove his uniform, and slip into his longjohns. When he turned, he found that Ray had just kicked off his shoes, thrown off his jacket and tumbled onto the bed without bothering to get under the covers. Well, Fraser observed, he would have to tuck Ray in. But first he waddled into the kitchen, picking up and hanging Ray's jacket over the back of a chair on his way. Turning on the faucet, he splashed the cold water on his face. What exactly had happened, he wondered, between himself and Ray in that car? Why should a simple embrace -- and that was all it had been -- draw such a violent emotional reaction from himself? Yet just thinking about that touch threatened to force a sob out of him once again. Then Ray's voice, softly telling him to go ahead and cry, calmly accepting of the emotions he had long denied to himself, Ray's arms and hands holding him, comforting just by their very presence... Fraser collapsed weeping on the kitchen floor. He was dimly aware of Dief whimpering softly as he nuzzled against his hands and face. Then he heard the soft footsteps, and Ray's arms were around him, his voice whispering comforting sounds into his ears. Ray held Fraser until the wreaking sobs subsided a little, then drew him up and led him to the bed. He pushed an unprotesting Fraser under the covers, then quickly shed his own shirt and trousers before climbing in next to him. It took a little maneuvering to settle both of them comfortably on the narrow cot. Fraser was sniffling again, and Ray just held him close, caressing his head, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. For a long time, Ray drifted in and out of sleep, caressing and kissing Fraser whenever he broke out into sobs. Finally, Ray claimed Fraser's lips, drawing him into a long, sensual kiss. He undid the first couple of buttons on Fraser's longjohns and slid in a hand to caress his chest. A gasp escaped Fraser's lips as Ray's fingers brushed against a nipple. Ray swiftly undid the rest of the buttons and pulled the top half of the longjohns off Fraser's unresisting body. Fraser moaned as Ray's mouth fixed onto his nipple. Ray shifted their bodies until their crotches slid against each other, then started grinding his hips sinuously against Fraser's body. Fraser lost himself to the sensations, hardly aware of Ray pulling the rest of the longjohns off his legs, or of Ray pulling away briefly to remove his own underwear. He shuddered as Ray took his pulsing cock into his mouth, then bit down on his lip as Ray's tongue caressed the sensitive tip. His body jerked convulsively, and he screamed wordlessly as he came into Ray's mouth. Ray's mouth closed down on Fraser's, filling his mouth with his own essence. Then Ray shifted, and Fraser obediently took the proffered cock into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue as Ray had done, until Ray, too, came with a wordless cry. Sated and exhausted, the two finally fell into deep, uninterrupted sleep. Unseen and unfelt, heaven and earth revolved in the night.   II. Fraser woke to the feel of an unfamiliar body next to his, impeding the movement of his arms and legs. Ray, he thought, without opening his eyes. He lay still for a moment, feeling drained, physically and emotionally, by the events of the last day and night. He could feel the bitter aftertaste of his and Ray's essence in the back of his mouth, but the lingering tightness in his chest and the constriction deep down in his throat were the more pertinent reminders of last night's passion. What sexual encounters he had had previous to last night were brief, hurried affairs, the bumbling experiments of adolescent curiosity. What happened last night between him and Ray was less about physical sensation and more about the communion of emotions. Fraser couldn't remember the last time he had cried so hard or so long. Perhaps he never had. Ray had somehow found the most vulnerable core of Fraser's being, and accepted the resulting overflow totally and without hesitation. And Fraser had surrendered completely to Ray, ceding all control, giving himself over to Ray, and Ray, through his touch, his caress, his kisses, had somehow accepted that, and given himself to Fraser in return. Beside Fraser, Ray shifted and mumbled in his sleep. Fraser took the opportunity to carefully extricate himself from the tangle of Ray's arms and legs. The slant of sunlight indicated that it was still early in the morning, but he will have to get up and get dressed soon or be late for his shift. Well, Lt. Welsh ought to be agreeable to giving Ray a day off, considering that the detective had been working without rest for the last three days, and had just brought a high-profile kidnapping case to a most satisfactory conclusion. But should he take a day off himself? He looked down at Ray's sleeping face, indecisive, not sure whether he wanted to stay or leave. Just then Diefenbaker got up from his corner and whined, wanting to be fed. "Good morning," Fraser said to the wolf. The wolf yawned and scratched his head with his hind leg. "Well, somebody ought to be here to make sure Ray feels all right when he wakes up, wouldn't you say? After all, he just worked for three days straight. He could feel mightily tired when he gets up, right?" said Fraser, quickly pushing another reason for Ray to be tired to the back of his mind. Getting up off the bed, he walked over to Ray's jacket, fished the cell phone out of the pocket, and called the precinct and the consulate. Ray woke to the feel of an unfamiliar bed. Hard. No spring whatsoever. Only Fraser would ever be content to sleep in a bed like this. Oh, talking about Fraser, where's Benny? He stretched his arm, but found himself alone in the bed. His eyes fluttered open to take in a room filled with early afternoon light, and Fraser sitting in a chair in the corner, reading a book, with the wolf at his feet. Ray took in the calm figure, the very picture of serenity as he poured over the book, thinking what a contrast it was to last night, when he had been totally out of control, first with the crying, and later with physical arousal. Wonder if I could get a little bit more of that, Ray thought. Well, he was wearing his jeans and flannel shirt, which meant he probably didn't go to work today... and talk about work, wouldn't Welsh be wondering where *he* was? Fraser caught the movement as Ray shifted in bed, and turned toward him. "Good afternoon, Ray," he said, smiling his most open and disarming smile. Ray's breath caught in his throat. Dear Lord, don't let him walk around the streets with a smile like that, he thought. Out loud, he grumbled, "Afternoon, is it?" Fraser put down the book and walked over to the bed, propping himself down at its foot. "It's almost two. You've been sleeping very well," he said. "I took the liberty of calling Lt. Welsh and asking him to give you a day off. Which he was happy to do." "Why, thank you kindly." Ray grinned up at him. "And you? Don't tell me you are playing hooky from your job?" Fraser blushed. "I did have something like 82 sick days coming to me, Ray," he said. "Well," Ray said, as he reached out and grabbed Fraser's arm, "If you are sick shouldn't you be in bed?" Fraser cocked his head. "Perhaps you're right," he said. "'course I am," said Ray. He swung out of the bed, using the momentum to half push and pull Fraser down onto it. "I'm going to the john, and when I get back, I expect you out of those clothes and in bed, understood?" Fraser looked bemusedly at Ray's retreating back, then obediently started unbuttoning his shirt. Afterwards, they lay languidly in each other's arms, basking in the afternoon sun, which shone fully onto the narrow bed, enjoying the moment. "Wonder what time it is?" said Ray, as he indulged in a leisurely stretch, extending each of his limbs in turn. "3:07, Ray," Fraser responded promptly. "No kidding, how exact can you get?" Ray huffed. "Well, Ray, it's a matter of knowing where the light from the window is in the room. It's similar in principle to a sundial. At this time of the year, the light moves across the room at the rate of approximately 2cm a minute. Well, to be exact, the rate is not constant throughout the day because of the variance in the angle of the surfaces of the room in relation to the sun, but with practice, one can learn to read..." "Enough, Benny, I get the picture." Ray said, forestalling any further diatribe. Fraser propped himself up on an elbow, focusing his eyes on the patch of light slowly making its way across the floor. "You know, Ray," he said softly, "if you concentrate on watching the light move, you can feel heaven and earth moving around you." Ray turned to watch the patch of light, and after a while, he began to feel as if time was suspended around him, the patch at once still and gliding, the room turning along with the earth, the sun, and the universe itself. "I love you, Benny," Ray breathed into the stillness. Fraser's eyes flickered in surprise. A hand tightened on Ray's arm. Ray smiled encouragingly into Fraser's eyes. Fraser blinked back the tears, fought for control, lost. He wept quietly as Ray held him, soothing him with soft kisses and gentle caresses. If Fraser was lost in Ray, Ray was desperately lost in Fraser. The rawness of Fraser's emotional vulnerability frightened him and drew him in, shutting off any possibility of escape. Ray had to hold Fraser, had to sooth him, comfort him, give himself to him, because if Fraser shattered, Ray would be broken. So they clang to each other, craving the intimacy afforded by physical closeness, managing to extricate themselves from each other's arms only when the sheer intensity of the physical and emotional high that held them in its grip became too exhausting to maintain. The sun had set sometime ago. They got dressed and made coffee. Fraser, at least, had eaten breakfast, but Ray couldn't remember the last meal he had. "You really should eat something substantial," Fraser said, swinging into his best naggy-meddling mode, "You haven't been eating properly since this investigation started. One should never underestimate the importance of proper nutrition. For example..." "Cut it out, Benny," said Ray, raising a hand to hold off the onslaught. "We'll go eat, ok? A nice, rich Italian meal sounds about..." Ray came to an abrupt stop in mid-sentence as a thought stuck his mind. "Oh, god, I never called Ma!" he wailed. "I did call her this morning, Ray, and told her you were here," Fraser said. Ray looked at Fraser, relieved but also a little annoyed. "You could've told me before," he complained. "Well, we were a bit... otherwise occupied, Ray," Fraser pointed out, unrepentant and slightly amused. "Right we were," Ray grumbled, feeling a little put out by Fraser's nonchalance. "You ready? Let's go." Walking to the Riv, riding in the car, walking into the restaurant, sitting at the table, munching on the food, chatting with each other... It was absurdly normal, like nothing had changed. Except perhaps, every once in a while, the banter would take on a heretofore unthought-of undertone. And Fraser would blush, perhaps even fluster a bit, and Ray would smile, and his gaze would shift just so subtly, and Fraser's breath would catch in his throat. It was unthinkable to do anything but go back and spend another night with Fraser at his apartment, and yet the logistics of it confounded Ray. He had to go home. He couldn't stay away two nights in a row without having a good excuse, he had to shave and get a fresh set of clothes before he went to work tomorrow... Well, the last half of the problem could be easily solved; all he had to do was drop by his house to pick up the necessary items. The problem was, there was no way to do that without having to talk to his Ma, and probably his sisters as well, since they'll all be home by the time he got there. In fact, considering the time, it was likely that his family would be in the middle of their dinner. "You don't feel up to facing my family, do you?" Ray asked, as they walked out of the restaurant. "Well, I haven't seen them in a while," Fraser commented neutrally. Then he remembered, "Except of course, for Francesca." Ray rolled his eyes and groaned. "Well," he said, as he opened the door of the Riv and slipped in, "I need to pick up some stuff, so you can come with me or I can drop you off first, your choice." Fraser fumbled with his seatbelt. "Is it prudent, Ray, to spend another night away from your home?" he asked. "You want me to go home? I'll go home." Fraser looked down, then up at Ray, then turned away to look out the window, and finally looked back at Ray. "No," he said. "Thought so," said Ray. Starting the Riv, he eased it into the street, then turned a corner without indicating. "What will you tell them?" asked Fraser, noting the violation, but for once choosing to ignore it. "I was thinking I could tell them we need to go on a stakeout." Fraser raised his eyebrows. "On what case, Ray? We just solved one. A major one, at that." "Doesn't mean there can't be other cases." Fraser frowned doubtfully. "Are you sure it's all right if I come along?" "Sure it is," Ray smiled across at his lover, "Just make sure you let me do the talking and don't contradict, all right?" "Right, Ray," said Fraser, sounding a trifle unconvinced. Just as Ray had guessed, the members of the Vecchio household were just sitting down for dinner when they arrived. Ray forged right into the melee, juggling three conversations at once as he reassured his Ma that both he and Fraser were fine, reminded Maria to call cousin Marco about fixing the leaks in the roof, and fielded Tony's questions about the case he and Fraser had just solved. He registered Francesca, sitting at her place, unusually quiet. He longed to hug her and tell her everything was all right, only it wasn't and he was the main reason for it and he couldn't do it anyway in front of everybody else. Fraser, in the meanwhile, had been politely saying hello to everyone, and he, too, felt pained by Francesca's subdued "Hi, Benton," in response to his greeting. Ray announced that he and Fraser were going off on another stakeout, and was met with a chorus of "Another one?" and "You two work too hard." He waded through the jumble of voices, pushing Fraser along with him, finally reaching the stairway. The sound of the boisterous family scene faded behind them as they climbed the stairs, and as the final echoes faded behind the closed door of Ray's bedroom, Ray sagged against the door with exaggerated relief. While Fraser chuckled at Ray's antics, Ray began moving through the room gathering the things he needed. "Ray," Fraser asked after a while, "how long do you expect this 'stakeout' to last?" "Wouldn't hurt to be prepared, would it?" Ray shot back. "I need to take some clothes to keep at the Precinct, as well. With you around some days I end up changing three times a day. And don't you deny it." Ray wagged a finger at Fraser as he opened his mouth to protest. Just then they both heard the footsteps coming up the stairs, and the sound of a door opening and closing across the hall. Francesca. The two looked at each other. It was her actions and words over the last week, her willingness to openly express her feelings and dreams, that had steered them into each other's arms. Yet, in doing so, they had each in his way betrayed her. Fraser looked down at his hands. The pain he felt for being unable to return her affection now multiplied with the consternation that he had, in effect, though without meaning to, rejected her for her brother. When he looked back up into Ray's eyes, he saw his pain reflected there. Gesturing at Fraser to stay, Ray slipped out of the room and slid across to his sister's door. Softly, he rapped on it. "What is it?" Francesca called out. "Hey, it's me," Ray said, "can I come in?" The door opened, and Francesca stood aside as Ray walked in. Ray looked her over. She didn't seem upset, just subdued. "You feeling all right, kiddo?" he asked. "Of course I'm all right." She tried to smile, but managed only a very strained one. "Don't worry about me. I'll get over him, really, I will." Ray ran a hand over his scalp. "It's not your fault, you know," he said. "I mean, you are my sister, but, you know, you are an attractive woman, if I say so. You got a lot of guts, I admire you for it, really, I do." Francesca looked up at him. "You are just saying that to make me feel better," she accused. Ray shook his head. "No, I mean it. And he does, too. He likes you, you know, he respects you. Only not the way you want. More like a sister. He's fond of you." Francesca sighed and turned away. "You're right, Ray, it's just a dream. A silly dream." "It's not silly to dream, Frannie. You are right about that. And you were right about me, too. I was afraid to dream. All these years I've been hiding." Ray sighed. "Frannie? Will you believe me if I say I really care about you? That I was just afraid of you being hurt?" Francesca frowned, perplexed. "What are you trying to say, Ray?" "It's Benny. Well, it's me. Well it's... Benny and I, that is..." Ray stopped, unsure of how to proceed. "We are close, you know." Francesca nodded. "So after you yelled at me about not dreaming I finally got the nerve to ask Benny..." Ray momentarily lost his nerve. "Ask Benny what?" "If he's gay." Francesca blinked. Then she raised her hand and waved it in front of her face, as if waving away the idea. "No. That's not true. That can't be true." "It is." "He *told* you he's gay?" "Well, not in so many words, but..." Francesca chewed on a fingernail as she absorbed the idea. "And you suspected? For how long?" Ray shrugged. "Were you going to tell me?" "As I said, I only asked him last night." "Last night. After I left the station. You asked him. He said yes. Then you went home with him and stayed the night... Wait a moment, you're, you're not..." Francesca stamped her feet in frustration. "Damn it Ray! What are you telling me?" "I love him, Frannie." Francesca was flabbergasted. She sank down onto her bed. "My god, Ray, you, you and Benton..." Suddenly, she was stuck by something else. "That stakeout. There's no stakeout, is there. You just made that up so you could sneak out..." "Frannie." Ray knelt in front of her and grabbed her hands. "Please Frannie. I didn't do this to hurt you. Can you see that? I just... I just knew that Benny and I loved each other. I just didn't want to admit it. I'm sorry I didn't admit it sooner, but that's what happened." "So you let me make a fool of myself." "Because I was a coward. Because I was afraid." Francesca bit her lips. Tentatively, she lifted her eyes to look at Ray. "Does this mean Benton's going to be my brother-in-law?" she said. Ray let out a snort. "Oh, not so fast. Please, I only barely told him I love him!" Francesca smiled faintly. "I understand, Ray," she said, dropping her gaze down onto her laps. "But... but I don't want to see you... or him... for a while, at least." Ray took in the dejected slump of her shoulders. He felt sick in his stomach as he saw the reality of her pain, knowing there was nothing he could do to ease it. He hoisted himself to his feet, daring only a brief pat on her shoulder before walking into the hallway. He wasn't surprised to see Fraser standing there, about mid-way between the rooms, arms clasped loosely behind his back, in a stance eerily reminiscent of how he'd been standing by that water-fountain back at the precinct... was it only last night? "Let's go," Ray said wearily, ducking into his room to grab his bag. They walked down the stairs, forged their way through the crowd of Vecchios throwing questions and parting greetings at them, and made it out of the house. Fraser waited until they were securely in the Riv before asking, "Are you sure that was a good idea?" Ray grimaced. "Good idea? I don't know it was a good idea. I just felt I owed her the truth." Fraser stared out the front window. "Sometimes truth is painful." "Amen to that." Fraser inhaled the pain in Ray's voice. It filtered into his soul, mingling with his own deepfelt joy, painful in its intensity, naked in its preciousness, frightening in its fragility. What price did they have to pay for this, what sacrifices were they willing to make, how much punishment will they be able to withstand? "I love you, Ray," he said, quietly. Ray blinked. He held himself still, watching the wind rustle the leaves on the trees across the street. Without looking, Ray held his hand out towards Fraser, felt Fraser's hand being placed in his, and squeezed it gently. Stillness filled the interior of the car, holding the two of them securely in place, sheltering them, for the moment, from the world outside. The circle of light cast by the streetlight wobbled with the wind. The Riv tilted, along with the universe, while heaven and earth revolved, surely and silently, in the deepening night. "Let's go home," said Ray.